


Encounter in the Great Woods

by Irit



Category: The Golden Compass (2007), The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-12 04:28:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3343649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irit/pseuds/Irit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While travelling to find her kidnapped friends, Lyra meets an ancient creature.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Encounter in the Great Woods

Thranduil was reclining on his cot, all long graceful limbs, folds of rich fabrics, and languor. Lyra stood in the middle of his tent and watched her dæmon flow from one form to another in the Elvenking's lap, while producing every possible sound of bliss under the expert caress of the strong pale fingers. The girl didn't know what made her more wary - that she felt nothing of that bliss or that the ancient ageless being could, probably, make her feel it if he wanted. At the moment she regretted she had trusted the alethiometer and ventured into the Great Wood.

'Do you know that I can _settle_ him into any form of my choosing long before your coming of age?'

Lyra jerked her gaze up and met the impenetrable calm of the Elf's silver-blue eyes, her own heart pounding in a jolt of panic.

'Wouldn't it?..'

'Affect your nature? Of course it would.'

Pan was still oblivious to everything around him except for the pleasuring touches. Thranduil looked down at him again, a small smile on his pale lips.

'That was the reason of a.... discord amidst my kin,' his deep voice flowed low and Lyra felt spellbound, barely able to move. 'Up in the North there used to be a settlement where Elves and Men lived side by side. My kin thought of themselves as teachers and sometimes shepherds; they believed that this ability to settle dæmons forms had been given to them so they could make Men better.'

Lyra shivered as the last word fell bitter as acid.

'My father saw it as wrong. He gathered those who shared his belief and left before blood could be shed. Even if it meant separating from his Panserbjørn ally and close friend.'

But blood had been shed, Lyra recalled from her history lessons. At some point Men started to see the early settling as Elves robbing them of their given destiny. They decided to fair for themselves from then on and end the other race's authority over them - as it was common with Men, violently. Even though strong, resilient, and skilled in battle, not all Elves managed to flee, and this event widened the gap between the Firstborns and the humans.

With a smooth gesture that brought the girl from her reminiscence Thranduil took Pan from his lap and flung him toward Lyra. The dæmon shifted from a stoat into a flying squirrel mid-fling, landed on the girl's shoulder, and snuggled against her neck tightly, warm and quite blissed out. Lyra tried to hide her breath of relief but didn't succeed much, judging by the derisory curve to the Elvenking's smile.

'I cannot help you further, young Lyra,' he said, raising to his feet in one lithe motion that made the girl step back and crane her neck to look up at him. With Pan breathing sleepily into her skin she felt less intimidated by the Elvenking's height, powerful built, and the sense of ages and might rolling off of him. 'However I shall give you an escort of warriors to keep you safe until you reach the borders of my forests. And if your journey leads you to Svalbard, seek the Panserbjørn line of Byrnisons. Perhaps, the memory of the alliance with my father still lives within them and will be of assistance to you. Farewell, child.'

Lyra bowed her head and left. The Elves of the escort were all but invisible while she made her way trough the ancient forest, only Pan could spot a fleeting shape or an elusive rustle of leaves. And for several days more after they left the green shade his fur or feathers kept the fresh, cool, and dark scent of the Elvenking's touch.


End file.
